Family Matters
by A.Renee92
Summary: It was only on a rumor that she was even there. But it was one she just couldn't ignore. She had heard it in passing, and had tried her best to forget about it. But she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if it was even half true. She had to check it out and see for herself. Series of interconnected one shots about the Darkholme family.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

 **Family Matters**

 **Demons**

* * *

 _Bavaria, Germany 1975_

Mystique eyed the crowd of people wearily as they massed around a ratty, old circus tent. It had taken longer than she cared to admit to track down this particular circus. They traveled frequently and relied only on word-of-mouth to spread the news of their shows. She waited until the crowd thinned a bit before making her way in. She found a spot towards the back with a decent view of the place. Patiently, she waited for the show to start.

It was only on a rumor that she was even there. But it was one she just couldn't ignore. She had heard it in passing, and had tried her best to forget about it. But she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if it was even half true. She had to check it out and see for herself.

The lights dimmed and the show began. She was only half-listening as the ring master spoke, promising to dazzle the crowd. The ringmaster was a peculiar woman, with a wild mane of curly black hair who wore a pair of horns on her head. There was something about her, that Mystique did not trust.

Most of the performances passed by rather quickly, and she was tempted to leave. There didn't seem to be anything out of the normal about the show. And the rumor she heard was apparently false. But just as she was preparing to leave, the ringmaster announced the final performer.

"And now, let me introduce you to the amazing, Nightcrawler," she said, clapping her hands and stepping away.

He appeared in a flash of smoke, and the familiar smell of sulfur and brimstone wafted her way. In front of her was him, her son. He performed a set of impressive acrobats, wowing the crowd. And he was impressive, but all Mystique felt was a painful stab to her heart. He looked so much like his father. And she felt the rage slowly build up inside of her.

He was not an animal for their amusement.

She moved, planning on putting an end to the show. She wasn't sure what she would do with the boy, but she had to get him out of there. A hand reached out, grabbing her by her forearm and prevented her from going any further. She looked up to glare at the offender, and found herself looking at the ring master.

"Raven," the woman quietly yet sternly spoke, a ghost of a smile filtering on her striking features. She arched an eyebrow and asked, "Or would you prefer, Mystqiue?"

She wrenched her arm free and demanded to know how this woman knew who she was. No one should have been able to tell. "What are you?"

"Come, I will explain all," she mysteriously said, turning away from the mutant and heading out the tent.

Mystique's curiosity got the better of her. And if this was a trap, she was crafty enough to find her way out of any trouble she found herself in. She followed the woman to a smaller tent where there were a pair of soft looking cushions, seated on a low table with a crystal ball in the center. Mystique snorted at the cliché setting, but still took a seat opposite of the woman.

"Going to read my fortune," Mystique sarcastically muttered.

The woman ignored the comment and said, "I am Margali Szardos. And rest assured, Kurt is happy here.

"How," was the only word Mystique was capable of saying. No one, save one person, knew about Kurt. Margali smiled mysteriously and Mystique wanted nothing more than to wipe than infuriating look off the woman's face.

"It was his idea to start performing," Margali stated fondly as she pulled an old, worn picture from the folds of her dress. She handed it to Mystique, who hesitantly took it. Kurt looked to be five years old, was sitting comfortably in the woman's lap. She could clearly see the adoring look on Margali's face. And he looked at her as if she hung the moon. It hurt more than she was willing to admit.

"I knew this day would come eventually," Margali spoke, as she started to shuffle a set of cards and made no move to take the picture back. Slowly, she began to lay them out, there were two sword cards, the Emperor, Strength, and the Queen of Cups. Distractedly, she said, "He saw you, on the television you know. He looks up to you."

Mystique felt a lump settle in her throat as her heart dropped. She looked away, ashamed. She did not deserve his admiration. Margali made a displeased noise in the back of her throat, causing her to look up again. "What?"

"The three of swords, you've suffered great losses," Margali said, studying the cards intently as she ignored Mystique's questioning gaze. "The four of swords as well, how odd. You are facing much turmoil and battle looms over your future."

"Enough," she growled, take a swipe at the cards and knocking them to the ground. She abruptly stood and turned to leave.

"I love him you know, as if he were my own flesh and blood," Margali said, staring at the other woman's retreating back. "No harm will come to him as long as I'm around."

Mystique didn't pause, and continued to walk away. Her son was safe and loved, nothing else mattered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

 **Family Matters**

 **Water Under the Bridge, Part I**

* * *

 _1973_

Mystique's charade as Stryker hadn't lasted long. Once the real major had appeared, she had quickly made herself scarce. And after helping the Wolverine out of the river, there was only one place she was willing to turn to for rest.

She took the first bus she could find headed south. Thanks to delays and heavy traffic, it took nearly four days for her to make it to Caldecott County, Mississippi. And none too soon, the gunshot wound on her leg needed to be cleaned.

She had just stepped off the bus when she spotted her, Irene Adler, leaning casually against the bus stop building. Her thick, dark hair was pulled into a messy bun and large glasses covered her face. She was clutching a walking stick in her hands.

Raven felt her stomach flutter as her heartbeat quickened. She had truly missed the other woman, and shouldn't have been surprised to see her there, waiting for her. Slowly, she approached her.

"It's been four years, Raven," Irene spoke, a small smile on her face.

"I know," was all she said. She didn't apologize, didn't need to with the precognitive.

Irene nodded her head and looped their arms together, as she began leading her towards her home. They ambled in a comfortable silence. It felt nice to have the other woman close to her again, and Raven would have loved to lace their fingers together, to feel her lips against hers again. But it was a small town and being a mutant was dangerous enough. There would be time for that later though, behind closed doors.

Once the two made it towards her home, Irene surprised Raven by not leading her into the house, but onto a bench on the front deck. Laid out on the patio furniture was a roll of fresh bandages and other items to clean her leg.

Raven sat on one end, while Irene sat on the other, and pulled the shapeshifter's injured foot into her lap and began to roll up her pant leg.

"You don't have to do that," she protested, attempting to pull her leg back.

"Nonsense." Irene had a firm grip. And sternly she spoke, "I'm not completely blind, yet. I'm more than capable of cleaning this for you."

"I've missed you," Raven finally said, relenting and letting the other woman do this for her. Irene hummed softly as she worked, and for the first time in a really long time, she felt herself truly relax.

Once she was finished, Irene didn't move her hand. Soothingly, she ran it across her leg and said, "There's something you should know."

"Another vision?"

"Not quite," Irene replied, apprehension lacing her words. But whatever she was about to say next was silenced by the loud ring of the house phone.

Raven wanted to tell her to ignore it, but the other woman was already stepping into the house, shutting the screen door but leaving the main door open. Even from her spot outside, she could hear Irene's one-sided conversation.

"Another fight."

Irene sounded exasperated, and a little amused if she weren't mistaken.

"I'll be there shortly to pick her up."

She wondered who had gotten into a fight, and why Irene needed to pick her up. It sounded like she had been doing that for a while.

"Oh, they are. Okay, I'll be waiting for them then."

Raven's curiosity grew. And as Irene walked back outside and settled down besides her, she spoke, "The Robinson's are my neighbors. A nice, normal family. They have a boy, Cody, around four."

Her confusion growing, she wondered why Irene was telling her this. But before she could ask, an old pickup truck stopped in front of the house.

Irene walked towards it as the passenger door opened. She spoke briefly to the driver, before a smaller body jumped out. A young girl, she grabbed Irene's hand as if she had been doing it forever.

Raven felt her stomach churn uncomfortably. Irene did say it had been four years.

The two were walking back to the house now, and she got a better look at the girl. She didn't look much older than two or three. She had a mane of unruly brown hair, that matched Irene's and bright green eyes. There was a particular stripe of white hair laced in the girl's hair, and she wondered if that was her mutant marker.

Once they were on the porch, the girl looked up towards Irene, silently demanding answers. If she hadn't been so distraught at the possible implications, Raven would have found the bratty look amusing.

Irene looked towards her first and said, "This is Anna Marie Darkholme."

The implication hung heavily in the air. Raven was caught off guard, not quite expecting that bombshell.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

 **Family Matters**

 **Waiting**

* * *

 _Westchester, New York 1988_

Kurt's tail swished behind him, in perfect sync with Mystique's pacing in front of him. The two were in the rec room closest to the main foyer. He was trying to focus on the movie playing behind his anxious mother. (Jubilee and Peter having long abandoned him once Mystique stalked in.) He looked towards his watch, 11:01, they were officially late.

Mystique growled low in her throat, startling Kurt. A series of expletives in different languages escaped from her mouth. And he was tempted to track down Irene, as she was the only one able to calm the other woman.

Rogue had stormed out of the house a couple of hours ago, Gambit in tow. Mystique had yelled out a curfew at her retreating form, though the younger girl had mostly ignored her. But it also wasn't like her to stay out so late either, especially considering she had a Danger Room session early in the morning with Logan.

"That's it, I'm getting Charles," Mystique finally snapped, stomping out of the room leaving behind a bewildered Kurt. He checked his watch again, it was only 11:06.

Faintly, he picked up the rumble of a motorcycle approaching. He teleported to the garage, eager to warn Rogue of their mother's growing fury (though she would probably revel in it).

But it was not his sister and Gambit who pulled up, but the Wolverine.

"Elf," he greeted with a curt nod of acknowledgement.

He swallowed, and replied, "Logan."

"Going somewhere?"

"No, thought you were Rogue," he said, his tail started swishing nervously behind him. "She and Gambit took off a couple of hours ago. Mystique is how they say, freaking out."

Logan snorted and looked across the garage, Kurt's gaze following his own. Gambit's bike and Rogue's jeep were in there designated parking area. He watched on as Logan picked up his head and sniffed the air.

"Don't know why, they're still in the mansion."

Kurt's eyes widened. "What," he dumbly asked.

"Somewhere in the East Wing, I'd say."

That was the classroom area. Gears spinning in his mind, Kurt ported to the home economics room. It was clean, but there were signs of recent usage. The smell of popcorn still lingered in the air.

Deciding to try another room, he found the duo in one of the study rooms. A television (that should have been locked away in the teacher's supply closest) had been wheeled into the room. Rogue sat in front of it on one of the plush couches that decorated the room. She hadn't noticed him yet.

Curious about Gambit's whereabouts, he peered over the couch to see him asleep, his head resting on his sister's lap. (He was sorely tempted to push him off.)

"Don't," Rogue harshly whispered, a warning. She hadn't even looked up from the television.

Pouting, Kurt reluctantly let the issue drop and turned to the younger girl. Her eyes were still green, so that was a good sign at least, eating from a bowl of popcorn. He was about to interrogate her when he noticed just what exactly was on the screen.

He gasped, scandalized.

"You said you were gonna wait," he accused.

Rogue only shrugged and pat the spot besides her. "Just started."

He immediately grabbed the popcorn out of her hands and joined her in watching the first part of the latest Doctor Who.


End file.
